


Rewarding the hunt

by Nilysil



Category: Warframe
Genre: Consentacles, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Human Genitalia, Non-canon biology, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Seductive entity, Size Difference, Size Kink, Tentacles, Vaginal, organic restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 22:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13556616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nilysil/pseuds/Nilysil
Summary: After a successful hunt, Hunhow rewards his shadow in ways that draw him loud.





	Rewarding the hunt

**Author's Note:**

> -+- Kudos, comments and sharing are encouraged! -+-

Sentient drones whirl as they wait for the hunter’s ship to settle, engines surging from an echoing rumble to numbing hums as it perches on its extended landing gear. Hunhow’s extension shards are patient as Stalker settles his ship, cutting power to the engines and unstrapping himself from the pilot seat. “Come to me, my hunter,” the sentient grazes among his thoughts, drawing sensation claws against his arms as he collects his gear. A hand phantoms among his side as he drops the ship’s hatch – letting the slender drones collect the bodies laid on the floor.

Stalker watches in mild amusement as the mindless drones strive to enter and exit the small ship, a finger slipping along War’s handle as the sentient coaxes at his thoughts. “An excellent slaughter,” the sentient seems to purr, admonished as his words dance over the hunter’s senses. “You should be rewarded, rightfully after a successful traitor hunt.”

The hunter expresses nothing, at least verbally as his taut muscles are coaxed lax by the sentient’s echoing touches. As he wanders through the sentient’s womb, he can feel, can hear the sentient request of how he’d like to be served, to be made quivering beneath the sentient’s mass. He remains outwardly stoic as he bounces back the requests; drawing outlines of being pressed senseless, drawn to peak again and again under the sentient.

Against his spine, the sentient rumbles in approval.

When Stalker enters his nerves are already coaxed calm, gazing upon the sentient’s massive half body as below blue purple tentacles furl, spreading and inviting.

Hunhow watches as the hunter reclines amongst the nestle collected at the base of his half-formed body, a single digit coaxing along a gripping arm. Stalker shuffles among the undulating glowing mass, working to get himself comfortable at his own direction; but, as the mass begins to shift, he’s moved into reverse, his body cradled and turned to face the enormous sentient above him with his legs partly sunk among the sentient’s gelatinous mass. “There we go, my shadow,” the sentient purrs as he leans – mass shifting as around Stalker massive forearms begin to grip at the ground. His legs are pressed to spread as Hunhow maneuvers his partial body to suspend almost precarious, overshadowing his shadow among his exposed flesh.

Stalker sinks amongst the sentient’s warmth as his hands reach back over his head, grasping around obsidian claws as tentacle roves knead against his thighs, testing and teasing. He huffs as they draw senseless lines over his skin, pulling himself closer to firmly fixed arms and the sentient’s downwards sight. It drags him away from the warmth that makes his nerves weak, sinking back as they coil around his shins, sinking him against them with a roll of his hips. Their grip is tight, reaffirming their hold as the hunter tries to wiggle them free again.

The sentient chuckles, working a press down his body, drawing his tentacles firmly between the hunter’s barely spread legs. Among shared senses he can feel Stalker’s enamored grunt, fingers kneading around obsidian thumbs as legs squirm a taunting resilience, an inner grin as the sentient make the squirming legs go still. Not with the ones holding the hunter’s legs, but with a mass that creeps up between held thighs, stroking forth against a sealed mound.

Stalker motions to spread himself against the tease, warm tentacles heed his request, drawing them up in a coiled spread that exposes him to a wandering mass. “How does it feel, shadow, drawn against your trembling desire,” a tentacle presses down between the raised legs for emphasis, barely touching as a seam begins to split. Roves guide themselves between the hunter’s legs, drawing Stalker further and further exposed till there is a spreading of his flesh, a reveal of lips pressed by a grazing tentacle.

“Tempting,” the hunter sneers, giving a token resistance to ensure the sentient has a firm grip around his legs. They’re held still as tentacles tease against his clasping clit, holds and strokes making him melt against the sentient’s glowing mass. “Oh,” he sighs, staring down and between as the sentient’s flesh teases against his own. Behind him roves catch his gripping hands, guiding them back to the hunter’s sides before moving them between body and stone.

Stalker welcomes the guidance, accepts the invitation to perceive himself in a third person view where he sees just how small he is beneath the sentient’s larger body. Through the weapon made of the sentient’s own bones as the ambiance glow gently cradles him. Above him, as he returns to his own sight, he can see the sentient staring down at him – emotions null on a featureless face. “See what I see, shadow,” the sentient rasps, his voice drawing chills down his hunter’s spine.

In Hunhow’s surrogate body view Stalker can see himself lying inclined, held in the right angle to watch as tentacles embrace around his body, drawing him against the warmth as thick tentacles begin to swarm against his flesh. Back as his own he writhes down against the teasing strokes, pets that make him sigh and shift within his requested restraints as they press upward between his thighs.

One presses, and Stalker spreads against the welcomed intrusion, legs crossing and coiling as the girth presses against his walls. His head falls back, gaze back on the sentient’s smooth head before looking back, rolling around the warm penetration. Above him the sentient rumbles, pressing inside him in pulsating thrusts before it withdraws. “Tell me, shadow, do you want to feel me within your walls?”

The sentient’s head tilts, but a pair of tentacles press against Stalker’s lips, spreading him as another wraps around his clasper clit. He sinks within the comforting tentacle mass, fingers gripping around inside his binds. “Yes, Hunhow,” he breathes shifting as the tentacle around his clit begins to stroke, exhaling as it drawn out, his flesh grasping around the thin tentacle as others press his flesh wide.

Tentacles phantom their way over Stalker’s held thighs, the thin wrapping tentacle withdrawn as the sentient’s flesh presses again. “What was that, shadow?” the sentient rumbles against Stalker’s throat, drawing a secondary hand down to stroke over an arching chest. “Speak up,” he drawls, wrapping a claw down through his shifting flesh, wrapping a finger up between Stalker’s legs. It strokes between as legs are guided closed, lifted forth as the claw tip strokes between wiggling thighs.

Stalker writhes against the teasing, his legs brought back open and met with a tentacle stroke. “I want your flesh,” the hunter starts before a tentacle embraces his clit, barely a suction that makes him melt and groan.

“There’s more than enough flesh to go around, my shadow,” the sentient chuckles, bringing his hand back up through his mass. It comes to rest beneath Stalker, held by gripping hands as groans are pulled from the hunter’s throat. “You’re soft, shadow, melted. Sinking among my flesh already. There’s already so much against you, around you,” Hunhow grazes against their connection, audio surging with emphasis as the tentacle embrace pushes forth on his clit. “Why would you want more inside you?”

The tentacle at Stalker’s clit withdraws, grazing against his lips before drawing back amongst the swarm of activity between his legs. They’re bought back to held coiling, following the hunter’s shifting hips as he tries to find some relief. “Give it to me, Hunhow,” he breathes, his grip firm on the obsidian claw.

The sentient, amused, presses his flesh against his shadow’s folds, nudging against a gripping clit. “How much do you need me, shadow,” A pair spreads the hunter’s flesh again, teasing penetration as the one around his clit curls and wanes. “Pressing firm, filling your meager insides to make you loud.” Lubricating drips coat against cerise flesh, following as the hunter rolls and groans – held fast by firm tentacles.

A thick girth presses against Stalker’s vulva, soon replaced by tender strokes against his excited and aching clit. “Tell me, shadow, of your increasing need.” The sentient watches amused as Stalker writhes against the prospect of drawn penetration – held in place, filled to the brim and enjoying every moment of it. Tentacles loosens around the hunter’s wrists, catching as his hands try to wander down where tentacles press against his flesh.

“Please,” the hunter begs, whining as warmth swirls around his clit. Fingers curling, hands held just far enough away that he can’t reach his burning desire for release. A large hand guide the smaller one back once more as tentacles draw against his spread lips, held in a gentle grip as the sentient presses his body in a mimicking grind that echoes through his flesh and between Stalker’s legs.

“Please is not enough,” the sentient rumbles, “my shadow.” Glowing flesh stroking between the held legs, furling upwards and making the hunter whine protests in each pass over his writhing clit. Over, and over, the sentient teases, enamored by the sounds his hunter produces. Hunhow can feel when Stalker is drawn close, tentacles drawing from drawn need to hold at spread thighs. And he lets his voice take over. “Indulge me, shadow. How far do you yearn to sink into desire; a tentacle swarm against your walls, drawn repeat by coaxing swirls, clenching at warm flesh.”

A whine is drawn through Stalker as sentient flesh coils against his spread lips, probing prods teasing against the hunter’s aching arousal. It presses him forth, waiting patiently for his need to wane. “More than anything,” he moans sight drifting to the fleshy array awaiting between his legs. “Please, Hunhow,” he whimpers, fists clenching at obsidian claws as they come to rest across his gut. He presses himself against the shifting mass that is the sentient’s flesh, yet still held firmly in place.

Through the sentient’s sight Stalker can see the contorting warmth that begins to lift his hips, shifting and undulating so it’s lifted above his own sightline. He can feel the tentacle tease between his lips, rocking as his left to the will of the ancient sentient, whining as a blunt head spreads lubricating fluids over his sensitive flesh. From the embedded sword he can see his hips raised above his head, held in place as a frilled tentacle presses against his aching clit. He hopes for a coming penetration, yearns for it, needs it – something transmitted freely through their constrained connection.

“As you wish, shadow,” Hunhow purrs, positioning the penetration precarious against rolling hips. It hovers just close enough to touch, an end stroked by a clasping clit. “But until your feet touch the ground, you’re mine,” the sentient growls, voice breathing at the nerves in Stalker’s throat.

“Gladly,” the hunter whimpers, groaning as the penetration pushes past his spread lips, bulging past his clenching vulva and fills him to the brim. He trembles in his confines as he rocks around it, not letting it settle without the sentient’s iron will keeping him in place. It doesn’t thrust but pulsates a shifting girth through his walls that draws open breaths, words slurring as a tentacle meets his clit with coaxing strokes. He tries to coil his legs around the sensations, as the tentacle eagerly brings him to his peak, bringing him to writhe and gasp haphazard. The sentient holds his legs firmly open, a large hand guiding hands back behind his head to keep the hunter from slipping out of hammering thrusts.

Stalker writhes under the filling thrusts as he’s coaxed back to be held wide, the skin of his stomach slightly bulging as the immense girth tempts against his limits of blooming pleasure, keeping it well with the comfortable range as his breathing hitches. He bucks within the warm confines as he’s brought to orgasm, falling to sporadic vocal expression as he squeezes around the thrusting mass. Inside mock seed spurts from the filling tentacle, a sensation that makes Stalker writhe, sticky fluid that makes the thrusting flesh sing with the hunter’s gasping groans.

It’s much to the sentient’s amusement, answering his shadow’s request to be filled.

Stalker writhes under the sentient’s obscene dominance, faintly ready as the tentacle withdraws to press his clit. It presses as Hunhow keeps his hands away from the working tentacles that start working on his second. But it doesn’t take much to encourage the hunter’s submission to the filling thrusts, hands grasping at thigh juts and gripping as fluid drips over his stomach as the tentacles lap at his groin.

As the sentient works, he slowly begins to coax the hunter’s legs back to the ground. Not enough to get there anytime soon, wanting to enthrall himself to make his shadow a trembling mess under his presence. And so, his tentacles are reinvigorated, lapping and teasing Stalker into his second built arousal, pressing him down against firmed flesh as arms grip at his finger. He holds it there as he works a pair into cerise flesh, stroking against sensitive walls not as a thick girth.

He alternates the sizes as he works Stalker into his second, pleas dripping loud as he’s soon brought to clench and whine, head pressing against his shoulder as he bucks. Hunhow’s touch at his shadow’s flesh changes as he works the hunter to slur his words; mumbling and groaning as his nerves are brought to a pleasant burn. Over and over he’s filled with the sentient’s shifting flesh, drawn taut as his movement falter to not be his own but by Hunhow’s guidance. Leaving him to slur and his head to press back with free expression; dripping open gasps and heavy breaths.

By the time Stalker’s feet return to the ground his legs are trembling, shaking as tentacle coils cradle his body as he writhes in the afterglow. Hands hold over his aching clit and pressed lips, breathing gasps as his nerves burn from the four consecutive heavy orgasms. It’s a burn he gladly accepts, feeling them numb as he reclines among the sentient’s warmth as a large hand cup against his back. He barely moves, letting the sentient move him as he focuses on making his breathing calm.

Above him the sentient claws his way back into his own recline, staring down at Stalker cradled beneath his chitin body. “Rest, my shadow,” the sentient purrs, undulating tentacles drawing Stalker close among the revitalizing warmth. The soft gelatinous mass cradle Stalker’s erratic shaking, a nothing that is welcomed by the exhausted hunter’s nerves. And inside, opposed to his trembling, lies a mental grin.

It’s exactly what he wanted.


End file.
